I Was a Wandering Sheep

I was a wan­der­ing sheep

I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shep­herd’s voice

I would not be con­trolled.

I was a way­ward child

I did not love my home;

I did not love my Fa­ther’s voice

I loved afar to roam.

The Shep­herd sought His sheep

The Fa­ther sought His child;

They fol­lowed me o’er vale and hill

O’er des­erts waste and wild;

They found me nigh to death

Famished and faint and lone;

They bound me with the bands of love

They saved the wan­d’ring one.

They spoke in ten­der love

They raised my droop­ing head

They gent­ly closed my bleed­ing wounds

My faint­ing soul they fed;

They washed my filth away

They made me clean and fair;

They brought me to my home in peace

The long sought wan­der­er.

Jesus my Shep­herd is:

’Twas He that loved my soul;

’Twas He that washed me in His blood

’Twas He that made me whole.

’Twas He that sought the lost

That found the wan­d’ring sheep

’Twas He that brought me to the fold

’Tis He that still doth keep.

No more a wan­der­ing sheep

I love to be con­trolled;

I love my ten­der Shep­herd’s voice

I love the peace­ful fold.

No more a way­ward child

I seek no more to roam;

I love my heav’n­ly Fa­ther’s voice

I love

I love His home!